Paper-Cuts of Death
by roo17
Summary: In which Marco and paperwork have a very unusual standoff...


Marco wondered how he got into his current situation. He wondered what he did to deserve such hellishness, such torture and disrespect. _'Ah, that's right…'_ The stack of papers before him began to grow and grow; bigger, higher, thicker, and seemingly coming _alive._ Marco stared on with almost unsurprised gaze. _'I brought Ace and Thatch with me.'_

_XxXxX Earlier XxXxX_

It was supposed to be a quick stop, a quick restock on a few supplies he needed. Maybe stop at a store or two, pick up a quick snack, help a few civilians, then leave. Something simple, peaceful even if everything went smoothly. Then Thatch and Ace approached him. He should have known better, he really should have, than to allow those two to come into the town with him. What had he been thinking? He wondered that himself as he continued to walk down the street, Ace and Thatch right behind him making odd noises and chuckles that could only signify trouble. He turned towards them with a sigh.

"Look, I'm gonna go into this supply store. Why don't you two go… help some people or something." Thatch threw a look at Ace who seemed to be smirking. Marco didn't wait for an answer and headed into the building, turning towards the two retreating pirates at the last second. "And _ don't_ get into trouble!" He heard a distant 'okey-dokey' and gave another sigh before entering the store. "Why do I have this terrible feeling that everything is just going to go oh-so _wrong_…"

_XxXxX Five minutes later XxXxX_

Marco exited the building with two small bags of a variety of office supplies he had needed. He pulled out a list and double-checked to make sure everything had been crossed off, mumbling each item he came to aloud. "Glue x5, paper x3, staples, stap_ler_, paperclips x10–" Marco gave an annoyed scowl as he remembered how fast his last ten boxes 'disappeared'– "Ruler x3, gloves, straws, pens, and ink." Giving a nod, he slipped the list back into his pocket. He took about four steps when he spotted an angry civilian heading in his direction. That itself didn't worry him. What _did _worry him was that it was an angry civilian with a stack of _paperwork._

_'So this is where my day takes its turning point.' _He glanced up to look at the sun. _'And it's not even ten-thirty yet.'_

"You!" Marco brought his attention back to the angry male, noticing the man wore a white apron and was rather dark-skinned.

_'He cooks sells food near the other vendors but doesn't have a stand of his own. Ace probably did his usual eat-everything-and-run-and-leave-Marco-to-deal-with-the-problem.'_

"You!" The male repeated, pointing an oh-so dangerous finger at Marco. "Your buddy cleaned me out and didn't pay a penny! I want everything he stole and damaged compensated for within the hour or I'm calling the Marines!" Marco gave in inward sigh as he took the papers and told the man not too worry. Great, this was easily a three-thousand beli loss. He gave the man the money and headed towards the harbor. But, sadly, he didn't get very far before he was stopped again. This time, a woman.

A woman with paperwork.

Behind her he could see four others approaching, all with their own little stacks of paperwork.

Fuck.

_ XxXxX_

Ace had started the whole thing. That's what Marco told himself as he stood in his current situation. It was Ace's fault and Thatch was his accomplice. As usual. Marco suddenly remembered the good old days when he only had to deal with the lone troublemaker, Thatch. Now his problems have quadrupled since Ace joined. Marco gave a deep sigh as he walked down the town's street with a stack of paperwork under one of his arms, his migraine nearly splitting his head in half. Ace and Thatch quietly walked behind him, no doubt holding in their boasts of what they did and their excuses– oh, the _excuses!_– of how it wasn't their fault. He could practically see Ace already opening his mouth and quickly held up his hand before anything could be said.

"I don't _care_ that you're sorry. I don't _care_ if it was your faults or not. And I don't _care_ about your sorry-ass excuses! What I _do_ care about is the stack of paperwork _I_ end up doing and the migraines those stacks of paper end up giving _me._ Now if you don't want me to _slaughter_ the two of you, I suggest you keep your mouths shut, your hands to yourselves, and just _walk_." The other two males stopped and pursed their lips, knowing they had just walked into deep waters. The three of them walked on in silence towards the harbor when Thatch noticed something in the distance. He grabbed Ace's shoulder, who looked up, and pointed to the object. Ace visibly paled, as did Thatch.

_'Oh shit.'_

The bitchy woman strutted her angry little ass over to Marco, a deep scowl planted on her near-perfect lips. Her deep-blue eyes screamed Bitch-Alert and her posture told them trouble was approaching. She stopped in front of the first commander, holding out a thin stack of papers. After suffering through a ten minute Bitch Fit, the woman strutted off, leaving the three commanders once again in silence. The six-inch stack of papers fell to the ground at Marco's feet as he turned towards the two, his back slightly hunched like he was ready to maul. Thatch had never seen Marco so bloodthirsty. Ace had never come closer to shitting his pants in fear. Marco's dark and shadowed eyes had no light in them whatsoever, and the usually light-blue eye color was now the color the ocean's floor. Even his hair that also seemed to darken in color seemed liked it wanted to hurt them as it blew in the breeze. Teeth bared, eyes showing malice, and body posture on the verge of turning zoan-form and tackling told the two commanders they were more than likely about to die a very painful death.

…Until one noticed something very odd.

"Uh, Marco?" Thatch was completely oblivious to the haki rolling off the blond, haki that promised pain and suffering. Ace, on the other hand, still looked like he was about to shit a few bricks. The fourth commander kept staring at something behind Marco, something he had never seen before. It was… weird. "Marco, your paperwork is…"

"Is _what_?" Snapped the blond, and even his words seemed to slice the air itself. Ace visibly flinched. Thatch tilted his head as he struggled to find the correct words.

"It's… moving?" Marco looked back at the paperwork to see what Thatch was talking about.

_XxXxX Present XxXxX_

Marco wondered how he got into his current situation. He wondered what he did to deserve such hellishness, such torture and disrespect. _'Ah, that's right…'_ The stack of papers before him began to grow and grow; bigger, higher, thicker, and seemingly coming _alive._ Marco stared on with almost unsurprised gaze. _'I brought Ace and Thatch with me.'_

The stack took on a form for itself, becoming a giant blob of paperwork. It grew and grew and grew, reaching the height of fifteen feet. It towered over the commanders, papers falling from its form every second and floating away in the wind. A mouth was seen, showing long, sharp, paper teeth. (Kind of like a giant Muk made out of paper.) The two stared at it with some form of confusion and awe as Marco stared at it with pain. All that paperwork… The word itself seemed to haunt him. The beast coughed up a giant paper-ball attack and they dodged it with ease, noticing it was covered in drool.

"That's a lot of paper-cuts…" Ace's comment earned him a glare from Marco, but he ignored it. "What? At least you can't _die_ from paper-cuts!"

Thatch spoke up next. "Actually, it's a known fact you _can_."

Ace tilted his head at this and gave it some thought. "Huh…"

Marco rolled his eyes and turned back to monster who had spat up another paper-ball. Marco was too late, he wouldn't be able to dodge it. The paper-ball was taller than him and easily weighed over 400 pounds. He slouched and released a breath. This was supposed to be a somewhat relaxing day! Now he was about to be mauled by a giant drool-covered paper-ball! "Oh fu–"

Marco awoke with a start, staring with wide eyes at the wall. His face was comfortably laying on his desk, his arms just under his neck. He picked his head up and found a few papers stuck to his cheek. He felt his chin was a little wet and he wiped it. _'Drool…?'_ He looked around the room. He was on the ship. He was in his room. Not outside dealing with some paper monster. Not having to deal with Ace and Thatch. Not having to deal with any _paperwork_. The papers below him were already finished and signed. He gave a sigh of relief.

The door opened and Izo stuck his head in. "Marco, I got some more pap–" Marco threw the nearest thing he could grab– Izo was grateful that it was a pillow– and hurled it at the commander with a battle cry. Izo quickly ducked out of the room at the sudden outburst and stared oddly at the floor before turning to the plate in his hand. "I guess he doesn't want these papayas after all…"

** XxXxX  
Moral of the story? Don't get too many paper cuts. You _will_ die.  
****Yeah… Sucky ending. Sorry bout that. Anyway! Something happy to put up! I know my last upload was depressing. Sorry bout that. Expect another depressing one and several creepy ones! Thanks everyone!**

**Review please!**

_~roo the PSYCHO_


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